Johnathan Spencer's Story
by JJJBLKRose
Summary: In an unusual and dangerous city, alone. What will befall Johnathan?  Written with unique characters, read the introduction to fully understand
1. Introduction

**Introduction**

Basis of this story.

The basis of this story is off GTA San Andreas Multiplayer (SA-MP) for PC. It's loosely based off a server a play on, with some events that will intertwine, but it is entirely fictional. It started off as a character bio on another server, decided to do this with it. I go by many names on many communities, namely Johnathan Spencer, Johnathan, Falco Spencer, Falco, Mr Spencer, JJJBLKRose, and others. It is inspired by roleplay done in the game, but remember, it is loosely based on it. Some characters will appear that are actually people's characters that I based them off of. Only a few events actually happened on the server, and those will be easily noticed, I plan on including Xavier's term as president, and a few other things. Of course, I made up a decent portion of characters, and some that I changed slightly to fit into the story better. My style of writing is similar to my favorite author, Anthony Horowitz, author of the Alex Rider series.

Anyway, you came here for a story. Here it is.

Johnathan D. Spencer

Criminal? Peace man? Stone cold killer? He has been reported as everything. When the CIA learned that he was arriving in the USA, they were very interested. They intercepted his plane, arrested the man in row four, seat two. They tortured him, they drove him insane. They had the wrong man. Johnathan really arrived by boat, in Vice City. Just one of the three decoys he set up. He then got a flight as James Alexander, arrived in Los Santos, and met with his contact. He set him up with the need-to know. He was a mercenary, a fighter for hire. He was here for a very large job, the payout was $1,000,000,000. Enough to set him, his family, and his friends, for life. He was eager, but careful. This much money would have more than one person involved.


	2. Chapter 1, The Arrival

**Chapter 1**

Johnathan sat on the rooftop, sniper aimed at the exit, waiting. The team inside was already at work, setting off the anthrax alarms, getting the target to evacuate. Soon, the alarms went off, people rushed out the door. Now came the hard part.

Johnathan saw the target, a middle aged man, brown hair, with a goatee, Light grey suit, and a steel briefcase. He centered the scope on the man, a pulled the trigger.

All hell broke loose. The bullet swept out, taking the target's head away. Then bullets spat into the cement the rifle was positioned on, Johnathan was diving backwards, as part of some unknown sense that something was wrong. He took cover behind the ramshackle room housing the stairs, slipping his Sig Sauer P228 out of his jacket.

He looked around the corner, spotting five men on the rooftop next-door. They opened fire, Johnathan slipped back around the corner, just in time, as the plaster next to his head exploded. He remembered how thin the plaster was, and emptied his clip in a rectangular pattern. He kicked out, shoving the plaster in, making a hole just big enough for a person. He slipped through, onto the staircase, running down it.

He got onto the thirty-fifth floor, looking around, pistol in hand. It was empty, as it should have been. The last twenty floors of the thirty five floor building had been made off limits, after some toxic mold was found. The clean-up team had vanished the day before, and had not yet been found.

Johnathan started sprinting down flights of stairs, until he got to the twenty-fifth floor, slowing down, he slipped down the last five stairs quietly. When he reached the fifteenth floor, he stopped. No one was there.

The lower fifteen floors were part of an office building, and Johnathan was staring at empty cubicles, on a Thursday. Johnathan know something was up, and when he reached the sixth floor, he understood what.

He could hear voices and footsteps below him. A group of people were coming up, and judged by the clanking noises, they were coming up for him. Johnathan spotted a fire exit out the window, so he ran out into the offices. He moved along the wall, judging which door to enter to get there.

He grabbed the doorknob.

Locked.

He kicked twice, blasting the door open. The footsteps stopped, and then started up again, faster, getting louder. They had heard him.

Johnathan pulled out his Sig as he ran to the window, putting two rounds into before he dove through the glass, onto the fire escape. He sprinted and hopped down, until he reached the ground. He sprinted away from the target's building into an alley. He ran and ran and ran, until he could no longer hear the sirens. He was safe.


	3. Chapter 2, La Cosa Nostra

**Chapter 2**

Someone tipped them off, someone wanted him killed. The target was a US senator, the contractors, were the CIA. They had found him, and thought he could help them. Johnathan did not care why they had him do it, he knew it was just business. Kill two birds with one stone. Johnathan was left with no money, and no work. Forced to live like a common thug in a city full of criminals. He needed to work his way up. He needed money and contacts. He needed them fast.

He remembered mention of an old bistro, located on the north-west side of town, and the mention involved illicit activities. He figured, he might as well check it out, see if he can meet some people.

He walked through the double doors at the entrance, and saw a sign pointing down. He looked to the right, up, and saw a door with a window. Through that he could see what looked like a kitchen.

He went down the stairs to the left, into an Italian bistro, with cheesy violins playing through speakers somewhere. He stood there, looking at the surroundings, until an Italian sounding man walked up to him.

"What can I do for you today?" The man asked.

"Nothing right now, just looking."

The waited walked off, and Johnathan looked at the counter, at the woman serving drinks behind it. She was middle aged, brown-haired, and a bit short for her age. He walked up, and put his hands on the counter.

"Oi, can I get a drink?"

"What do you want?"

"How about a Sprunk laced with some whiskey?"

"That's an odd order, but comin' right up!" She said turning around, preparing the drink.

Johnathan looked up the second floor, ending with a railing above the counter.

"That looks dangerous" He commented.

"The railing? Yeah, it can be from time to time" The girl responded, still looking away.

"So, what's your name?" Johnathan asked, slyly.

"Yon John, how about you?"

"Johnathan" he replied.

"Got a last name?"

"Oh uh…..Alexander" Johnathan said, hurriedly.

"So, _Mr. Alexander, _you don't sound like you're from around here. Or even this country."

"I am from Ireland, Belfast, to be precise"

"Belfast, eh? I thought that was in England?" She questioned.

"Nope, it's in Ireland" he responded.

" Here is your drink, are you here for work?"

"Might as well, kinda jobless right now" He replied.

"Hey, did you hear about that assassination last week?" She queried.

"Yeah, terrible how a senator can be killed in his own state"

"You look sorta familiar…Have I met you before?" She said, looking closely at his features.

"Uhhh…..no…..I don't think so, at least" He responded.

"Hmmm….well, the boss likes to interview the applicants before they apply, so, if you don't mind, could you come with me?" She said, professionally.

"I guess" He said, as he followed her up the stairs, through a door to the immediate right.

She had him sit down in a chair, and wait. "He will be here in a minute" she had told him as she walked out. Seemed longer than a few minutes. Something was up. And it wasn't good.

The door opened. Johnathan looked over his shoulder, as five men walked inside. Johnathan stood up, withdrawing his weapon.

"Hey, we're cool, that's not needed" Said one of the men.

Johnathan slowly lowered the gun, still keeping it readied. "What do you want from me?" he calmly asked.

"Your employment, Mr. Spencer" replied the man in the middle. "You see, we know who you are, and we could use you. The pay would be decent, and definitely a turn-around from that senator incident last week."

"It seems my reputation precedes me" Johnathan replied. "So, keep talking about this job".

The other man went on, "We need someone dead, and we do not want anyone to know" the man said, calmly, emotionless. "We need him to vanish, and with him, our problems"

"Your problems?" Johnathan questioned. "Anyway, you said it pays well. How much is well?"

"Full of questions, ey?" the man said, as he walked around Johnathan to his chair at the desk. "The pay is Seventy-five grand, twenty-five up front. Our problems…..well…..he is the leader of a group of Mexicans in town that did not take kindly to our operations. They are called the 'Vatos Locos' "said the man, a he sipped out of a glass that had been there since John walked in. "They call themselves 'gangsters'…..well, we need their 'gang' to fall apart, and this man's death will accomplish that."

"The pay sounds good, and no job is too hard. So, where does he usually hang out?" Johnathan said, leaning back in his chair.

"He hangs out, here" said the man, putting a photo on the table. "It's called Seville". Johnathan leaned forwards, looking at the photo. He saw a bunch of Mexicans handing around a two story apartment building.

"That is near the beach, right?" He asked, still looking at the picture.

"That is correct" said the man. "There is also a basket ball court that they hang out at. I want you to kill Ethan, and anyone that gets in the way, the more the better. This one is Ethan" he said, pointing to the man in the center of the people. "He usually has men around him, his best men. Those need to go too. Basically, cause as much chaos as you want. I can provide you with a few men to help, under your command of course."

"Sounds good but, who are you even?" Johnathan asked, realizing he had no clue about who these men were. "Me? I am Mo Cena. Us? We are the La Cosa Nostra, a fairly large operation here in Los Santos. I am currently at the head of this." Mo said, "This may or may not be my real name, if you are wondering."

"Alright, so who will I be with?" Johnathan asked, anxious to get started. "You will be working with Salvatore Auditorre and Alex Vargas. They are some trusted employees, and they are great at taking orders."

"Alright, got any resources for me? I am down to a Sig Sauer, with two clips. That job kinda screwed things up for me."

"We have some weapons and explosives." said Mo, chuckling. "Only take what you need" he finished, sternly.

"Got it, now, where are these explosives? And, what all weapons are available?" Johnathan said, eagerly looking at the men at the door. "Any of these Salvatore or Alex?"

"The two on the right will take you, and they are Salve and Alex." Said Mo, calmly. "Take him to the storage locker, and show him the toys. Damien, Sam, Drake, stay here, I want to speak with you about something."

Johnathan followed the men out, walking downstairs, past the kitchen, and down more stairs into a backyard. "I don't see a locker" Johnathan said, suspiciously, as they stopped next to a dumpster.

"Just wait" Alex said, opening it up, from the front panel. Johnathan walked up, looking inside.

There he saw handguns, machine guns, sniper rifles, and explosives, all packed into a standard dumpster.

"That's better!" said Johnathan, leaning closer. He pulled out two of the handguns, examining them.

"Take only what you need, what you take you can keep, bosses orders" said Salvatore, glumly.

John examined them, talking to himself. "Platinum Colt M1911s…..very nice choice…." He said, as he slipped them into his waistband, one on each side. He looked closer, at a machine gun before pulling it out. "TMP, all the firepower of an Uzi, in something that can be hidden in a pocket. This should be all, but just in case, I'll take one of these too" he said, removing a G36c from the dumpster, strapping it on his back. "Let's get it done".


	4. Chapter 3, Employment

Blah…Starting this at like 2am….while listening to random music and so on…..meh.

**Chapter 3, The Job**

A black town car rolls to a stop at a basketball court. The window rolls down, a man looks out at the Mexicans playing basketball. No words are said, but the Mexicans stopped, and started walking over. At that moment, they see a flash of metal as a gun is raised, and machinegun fire spits across the court, striking four of them, then the car roars off. The others run over to the fallen, yelling in rapid Spanish. More men come running out of the complex across the street, totaling up to eighteen men. Johnathan watches all of this through binoculars from a near-by tower. "The true power of the Vatos Locos I see….this is going to be one fun job..." he thinks to himself. He raises a radio to his lips, speaking into it. "Alex, spark the fires" "Got it boss" responds Alex, quietly.

Soon, black smoke rises from the apartment complex across from the target complex. More incoherent shouting, more panic. Just the way it needed to be. "Salve, light the bomb." He says into the radio. "Bomb is lit" replied Salvatore. All was well, the plan was working beautifully.

A sudden whoosh was heard, as firebombs inside the parked cars go off. Shouts turned into screams. Words turned into gibberish, even for the people that could understand the language. There was chaos. There was opportunity.

"Salve, Alex, in position?" Johnathan asked, as he hurried down the stairs from the tower.

"Yes sir" rang out in unison from them both. John moved down the road, cautiously approaching the side of the apartment complex. He slipped out the two M1911s, one in each hand, and rounded the corner, coming into sight of the men. At the same time, Salvatore came around the other side of that complex, with an FNP90, and Alex came around the complex across the street, with a UMP .45, all weapons aimed at the Mexicans, John aiming at Ethan, who was in the middle of the crowd.

"What is going on here?" asked Ethan, and he was not in a good mood. His hand was slowly sliding down his side, towards his waistband.

"Not you." Johnathan replied coldly, as he emptied both clips into the crowd, careful to miss Alex. John took cover, reloading, as Salve and Alex emptied their clips, almost downing the whole crowd. Two men had quickly crouched behind cars, and were safe from the bullets.

The two men were smart; they slipped over to the same car, and watched both ways, keeping us pinned down. John slipped back down the road, staying behind the apartments. He moved down a few blocks, then cut over, telling Salve and Alex to keep them pinned down. He walked around them, coming up from an un-expected angle, the other side of the street from where he was before, at the corner of that complex. He slipped around the corner, firing off four quick rounds. Two bullets to each chest, how he learned with the IRA. John whistled, signaling the confirmation. John, Alex, and Salve walked out, looking at the bodies, shooting everyone that moved just one more time, stopping at Ethan, who was barely clinging to life. Johnathan kneeled over him.

"Sorry man, just business" he said, as he fired one last shot into Ethan's head, fulfilling the contract.

They walked the two blocks to the town car, drove it to a parking lot with no security cameras, made sure the car was clean with no prints, left it, and stole another car from the lot. That car they took to a La Cosa Nostra sponsored chop shop, which got rid of the car for them, and earned a bit of cash. Then they went and ate at Burger Shot, then went to the Bistro to report the success.

When they walked in the doors, the place was empty. Johnathan instantly grew suspicious, and slipped his fingers into his belt loop, near his gun. They walked through the building, stopping at the door to Mo's office. At this point, there had been no noises or people anywhere. Johnathan waited for them to open the door, and was surprised with what he saw. There were about fifteen different people there, along with Mo, and the new arrivals.

"So, John, did you like that job?" asked Mo, coolly. "I guess" was the response.

"Well, here is your pay" said Mo, sitting stacks of bills on the table. "Would you like to earn some more?"

"You know I am jobless, of course I'll take almost anything that pays" replied John, still suspicious.

"I would like for you to work here, for me. For us, like you just did, except only with us, capiche?" said Mo, happily, as this was his favorite part of the job. Recruiting new guys. "So, whadaya say? You in?"

"I'm in, don't worry. What do you need me for now?" John asked, relieved. "Introductions for today, tomorrow, we will get down to business." Mo, responded, and then held out his arm, slowly moving it past everyone, saying their names as it passed. "Damien, Matthas, Sam, Drake, Doya, Andrew, Isaac, Ivan, Gianmarco, Joe, Mark, Jeremy, Daigo, Yon, and Osferd. You will be working with them from now on. You will learn to trust them, or not. You never know who could be a spy, who could be a snitch. You can trust everyone, or no one. You will know if you did the wrong thing when you are dead. Got that?"

"Always have, same principles as a mercenary. Never know when you are gonna get screwed. And when you find out, you're too late." John said, calmly. "Only thing you can trust is yourself, and your gun. Unless it runs out of ammo" he finished, chuckling.

"Sounds about right" Mo said, smiling. "Welcome to the business. Damien, show him around. I believe he already saw the gun locker."

"Alright boss" replied Damien. "C'mon, I'll show you around."

They walked out, and Damien showed him the works.

"So, you're from Ireland, ey?" asked Damien as they walked around a corner. "Yep, from Dublin" came the response. "Myself, I am from Italy." "Cool" Johnathan said, not paying much attention.

Damien showed John the makeshift medical room, the "meat locker", around the backyard, the kitchen, and the actual bistro itself. All in all, it was a pretty large and organized place. It even had a staircase leading up to a balcony, which had an amazing view of the west end of the city. Then they went back to Mo's office for John's first assignment as part of the family.


End file.
